The next few days, Darcy stayed at home with his slowly recovering wife. He read to her and helped her into the tub filled with cold water, towelling her as vigorously as possible without hurting her when she inevitably emerged shivering. They went for short walks around the house and played several games of chess. Elizabeth's understanding of strategy was quickly improving and although she could not hope to win yet against such an experienced opponent, she did manage to put her husband in check a few times. Darcy promised teasingly that once they reached Pemberley, they could work once again on her swordsmanship. He assured her that the large private ballroom on the estate would be just the venue for such lessons, even in the dead of winter. She wrote a letter to her aunt each day detailing the ways in which she felt better.

One day, Lady Matlock came to call and almost burst into tears at the sight of her new niece's bruised face. The countess was highly apologetic for allowing such a thing to occur under her very nose although Elizabeth assured her repeatedly that it was absolutely no fault of hers.

Although she seemed much improved during the day, every night since the first after her ordeal, Elizabeth woke up screaming at least once, panicked to be trapped in her husband's embrace. Darcy did his best to calm her, but could do nothing besides stroking her hair lovingly as she cried herself back to sleep, night after night. He tried to entice her to take a tincture of Laudanum before bed, but she eschewed the drug once her pain had become bearable. He offered to sleep elsewhere so as not to frighten her with his touch during the night, but she would not hear of a separation.

Desperate to make her happy, Darcy begged his father for permission to invite the Gardiners to dinner. The older man opined for several minutes about proper divisions of class, but eventually acquiesced. Once this barrier was breached, Darcy inquired as to whether the Bingleys might be invited to join them as well. After all, he pointed out, they had promised the young man some guidance and mother and son had seemed reasonably genteel.

"In for a penny, in for a pound." Mr. Darcy grumbled and agreed to allow the small party the next evening if all were available.

The question at hand became when to bring Georgiana home. Elizabeth was melancholy and weak, but able to move about without too much pain. Her bruises were still obvious, however, and nobody wished to upset the young girl. She had been so horrified to see her brother's injured face the week before; her father did not think she could handle seeing her sister-in-law's more severe wounds. In addition, he was loath to explain to his daughter what, exactly, had occurred. It was decided that she would remain at Matlock House until Darcy and Elizabeth had departed for Pemberley. By the time Georgiana was to reach the estate in her father's company, the visible evidence of Elizabeth's ordeal would likely no longer be noticeable.

Despite her periods of intense sadness, Elizabeth allowed herself to become excited about Saturday's gathering. She was thrilled and relieved that her father-in-law had finally agreed to allow her relations a sanctioned visit. Although he was a stern man, she had already found him to be generally fair and, Wickham aside, a decent judge of character. She respected him and was certain that once he had a chance to become acquainted with the Gardiners, he would welcome them to Pemberley as well.

Having grown tired of nightclothes and dressing gowns, she was looking forward to finally wearing a real dress. A desire to hide the bruising on her arms necessitated long sleeves and, still self-conscious in general, she chose a gown that displayed none of her décolletage; which was just as well since her corset had been left fairly loose. Despite the conservative nature of her dress and the fact that all their guests were aware of her recent ordeal, she felt awkwardly on display and was strangely relieved when her husband complimented her beauty profusely before escorting her down the stairs.

The Gardiners arrived first, followed promptly by Bingley and his mother. They spoke briefly on topical subjects and everybody was assured as to the continuing improvement of Elizabeth's health.

"Mr. Bingley," Elizabeth began, "I regret that I was unable to convey my gratitude to you for saving me that day when I -" she could not bring herself to specify what had happened "- when I required help."

"Oh, Mrs. Darcy, no thanks are necessary. As I understand it, you quite saved yourself. All you required from me was transportation home."

"I cannot express . . . " It was odd to be speaking to this stranger, no matter how genial he seemed, after the unconventional and traumatic way in which they had been introduced. "I must thank you." She stated simply. He accepted graciously and that was the end of it.

The conversation shifted quickly to other topics, for which Elizabeth was grateful. She noticed that her father-in-law was not speaking much except to Bingley about the trials and tribulations of estate ownership. She was disappointed but not particularly surprised by his disinterest in her relations. Eventually, he looked up and caught her eye. As if reading her thoughts, he stiffly addressed her aunt at the next conversational lull.

"Mrs. Gardiner, I understand that you hail from Derbyshire."

"Oh yes, Mr. Darcy. I find it to be the most beautiful county in all of England. I am sure that you must agree with me."

"I am afraid that I have not seen every county in England, but in my limited and admittedly biased opinion, you are correct. Where in Derbyshire were you raised?"

"In Lambton, an easy distance from your own estate, Sir."

"In Lambton, really!" He seemed mildly amused by the notion. "I do business with many citizens of that town, perhaps I am acquainted with your father or brother."

"I have no brother, and I do not believe that you would have any use for my father's trade, for you have a provider of it closer to your own home."

He looked at her in confusion, a bit taken aback by her flippancy. It was his son who explained.

"Mrs. Gardiner's father is the vicar of the Lambton parish, Father. We have never attended his church as we patronize the one at Kympton."

"The Lambton parish, I feel like I ought to know . . . What is your father's name, Madam?"

"Mr. Stephen Cunningham, Sir."

"Cunningham . . ." Mr. Darcy's brow furrowed as he thought. "Oh! I do know him, although not well. His father, your grandfather then, was the Baron of Greensdown?" He glared slightly at his son, who flushed with the realization that his father might have been far more accepting of the Gardiners if he had been informed of the connection sooner.

"Yes he was, although I have never visited the estate, myself."

"Someday it may be your father's, I believe, if the current Lord Greensdown does not marry." Walter Cunningham, Baron Greensdown, was well known among the ton as a gambler and excessive drinker, but not as a womaniser. Even now, at sixty, he could yet marry and father an heir, many young women or widows would be happy to have his title and wealth, but he rarely danced at balls and had not been known to court a woman in decades.

"I had not given that possibility much thought, I suppose I would visit it, then." Left unsaid was what would happen after her own father's death without male progeny. Perhaps, Elizabeth realized for the first time, her aunt carried a future peer of the realm in her womb. Low connections, indeed!

After this revelation, Mr. Darcy became noticeably more interested in the relations of his daughter-in-law. Dinner was more relaxed and enjoyable for everybody.

Darcy could tell that his father was in a good mood by the quality of cigars he brought out when the sexes separated after the meal. The older man even engaged Mr. Gardiner in some conversation regarding the man's business endeavours.

Once the men returned to the drawing room, both Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth displayed their talents on the pianoforte and although neither performance was superlative, both were enjoyed by all.

Darcy and Bingley played two games of chess and got to know each other. Although Darcy found his new acquaintance to be slightly immature, he allowed that was likely a mere consequence of his age and inexperience and allowed himself to admire the younger man's affability and determination to better his situation.

Once the evening was over and the guests were seen out; Darcy felt as though he had made a friend, Mr. Darcy was pleased by his new understanding of his daughter-in-law's social connections, and Elizabeth was happy to have been granted access to at least a part of her family. That night, she finally slept peacefully until morning, even without Laudanum.

The next day, feeling refreshed and relatively cheerful, Elizabeth insisted upon going to church despite her husband's attempted insistence that she remain in bed. They did not arrive particularly early so that they would not have to interact much with their fellow parishioners although not so late as for their arrival to be noted. Elizabeth realized she still had much to earn about navigating the intricacies of society. The crowd was a bit frightening for her but she got through by holding tightly to her husband's hand throughout the sermon. By the end of the service, she was feeling better than she had since the incident. They left as quickly as possible to avoid being drawn into conversations with their neighbours and hurried home.

"I have decided to forgive myself," she told Darcy later as they sat together in the library, "if you can forgive me."

He was confused. "For what could you possibly require my forgiveness, Love?"

"For losing -" Her voice broke and she took in a shaky breath as tears pooled in her eyes, "for losing your child."

"Oh, Lizzy, no." He pulled her onto his lap as she began to sob. He thought they had already established that the fault lay not with her, but with the fiend who had accosted her. He almost reminded her of this when he thought better of it. Anything he might say then was something she already knew so instead he rubbed her back in calming circles as she wailed against his shoulder.

Perhaps it was guilt over her miscarriage, perhaps it was pent up fear or anger or grief, but Elizabeth Darcy needed a catharsis. She found it, that Sabbath Day, crying in her husband's arms. She sobbed for what felt like an eternity, until her tears had run dry. Finally, coming back to awareness, she realized that Darcy was still stroking her back gently as he whispered soothing words of love into her ear. She took a deep, shuddering breath to calm herself and pulled back so that she could look him in the eye. "Thank you."

"There will be another babe, Love, I promise. You are so young; we are young and have plenty of time."

Suddenly her sadness turned to something else, and she pressed her lips against his, kissing him with desperation as she tugged at his cravat.

"Lizzy, no." He said gently as he pushed her hands aside. "It has not been a week, you are not yet healed."

"I want - I want you to love me."

"I do love you, Elizabeth, and my love is not conditional upon children or physical intimacy, both of which we will have when we are ready."

"I am ready."

"I would not endanger your health for anything. You cannot tell me that you feel no pain." The way she would not meet his eyes confirmed his suspicion. "The doctor said we ought to wait at least a month."

"A month?" She seemed genuinely appalled at the prospect.

Darcy smiled slightly. "We can consult another doctor once we reach Pemberley if you desire it."

"Tell me about Pemberley; about when you were a child there." She slid off his lap, suddenly conscious that although they were alone, they were not in their private rooms. She still remained quite close, wrapping her arms around his torso and laying her head upon his chest as he painted a picture with words of an idyllic place with trees and lakes and hills where he had frolicked as a child. Pride for his home suffused his voice and he left unsaid how much he looked forward to sharing the bounty with children of their own someday.

Elizabeth felt calm and, for the first time since she had been attacked, truly happy. She slept well again that night.

Monday was to be spent preparing for their departure to Pemberley. The doctor came and proclaimed Elizabeth's health to be adequate for the journey, although suggested that they might spend two nights on the road, rather than the usual one, so as not to overtax her during the recovery period.

Elizabeth was in the drawing room writing a letter to Georgiana, assuring the girl of her improved health without going into any sort of detail, while Darcy read the newspaper on a nearby chair. They were both surprised when a visitor was shown into the room.

"Lady Catherine DeBourgh," Sinclair announced just before a severe-looking woman strode into the room.

Darcy rose to greet the unexpected guest and Elizabeth was just setting down her pen when the lady's voice boomed forth. Despite the woman's obvious rank, she did not speak at all as a genteel woman ought.

"This must be the slattern who has taken my Anne's rightful place!"

Although she had been planning to rise and say hello, Elizabeth was shocked into silence. Her husband, on the other hand, became incensed.

"Aunt, what is the meaning of this rude intrusion?"

"You accuse me of rudeness, Fitzwilliam? You, who married this country nobody without a single word to your family? You are clearly ashamed of the connection and rightfully so. I will use my influence to help you have it rectified! It may not even be legally binding after all; Scotland!" She looked directly at her nephew, not sparing a single glance for the woman she continued to insult.

Darcy spoke through clenched teeth. "Nothing needs to be rectified, your Ladyship, Mrs. Darcy and I are quite content in our perfectly legal and binding marriage."

"Content! How can you be content in this travesty, this sham of a union? You married this fortune-hunter and kept it from your family for weeks, I might not even have known except that a friend in Bath showed me your announcement in The Times!"

"Lady Catherine," Darcy raised his voice slightly and took a step forward so that he could look down into his aunt's eyes, "your ire is misdirected, I took care to send word of my marriage to you at Rosings before the announcement was run in the paper. I had no knowledge that you might be elsewhere but imagined that, were it the case, your correspondence would be forwarded in a timely fashion." In other circumstances, he might have apologized for the misunderstanding, although it was truly not his fault, but the woman's words were cruel and unforgivably directed toward his already fragile wife.

She waved her hand dismissively. "I can hardly be bothered to see to such trivial things as letters when on holiday. Now, your behaviour toward me is unacceptable. I demand that you apologize. Also, that slut you call a wife has yet to greet me properly." She glared at Elizabeth, who was still sitting quietly at the desk, eyes fixed on her own clenched hands.

Darcy followed her gaze and saw his wife's lip quivering as she struggled to hold back tears. He knew that she still suffered from their loss and despite his many reassurances, felt as though she had disappointed him. The last thing he wished to deal with, at that moment, was an upset Elizabeth. The moisture forming in her eyes broke his heart and he set his jaw before firmly requesting that his aunt apologize. He wanted to demand it, shout and bellow as the older woman had been doing herself, but the manners that had been drilled into him his entire life did not allow him the words to do so even in such a situation as this. When she steadfastly refused, he called for Sinclair to escort the lady out; speaking calmly even as he hid his hands, trembling with anger.

Mr. Darcy chose that moment to enter the room, the raised voices had interrupted him in his study where he had been attending to his own correspondence. He had heard both his sister-in-law's final insult and his son's refusal to rise to the bait. He felt both distaste and pride at once.

"Ah, Darcy," Lady Catherine addressed the owner of the house without allowing him time to speak, "you must make your son see reason, he is disrespecting me to defend this little upstart." She gestured again at Elizabeth without even looking her way.

"Your Ladyship," Mr. Darcy responded, his tone civil but cold, "I am afraid that, like my son, I must ask you to leave." He showed no outward sign of anger but his word were crisply spoken and unmistakable.

"Leave? This was my sister's house, I am as good as mistress here!"

"As impolitic as it may be to contradict a lady, you are not. In fact, you have quite insulted the actual mistress of this house and, in having done so, have worn out your welcome here." He signalled to the butler, who took a step forward. "Until such a time as you are willing to apologize to Mrs. Darcy, you may consider this family not at home to your calls, neither here nor at Pemberley. Sinclair will see you out. Good day, Madam." Then, in a deliberate show of disdain, he turned his back to Lady Catherine as she was led from the room.

"Thank you, Sir." Elizabeth managed to whisper, still working to keep her tears at bay.

"Think nothing of it, Mrs. Darcy." He touched her shoulder gently, if awkwardly, in what was clearly meant to be a comforting manner. "You ought not to be subjected to such malevolence in your own home." He turned to his son. "Now, Fitzwilliam, I know that the two of you leave for Pemberley on the morrow and there is much to do in the meantime. Please, let me know if you require any further assistance." He bowed slightly and left the room before Elizabeth had decided whether to act upon her inclination to embrace him.

The moment Mr. Darcy was gone, her tears began to fall, now a combination of relief, anger and sadness. She was swept up in her husband's arms and they sat together in silence for a few minutes. Heartened by her father-in-law's show of support, Elizabeth's upset was of short duration, and soon she was able to finish her letter and return to her chamber to oversee the preparations for their removal to Pemberley.

The next morning, they had a leisurely breakfast before departing. Although the trip was usually undertaken in two long days, broken with one night at an inn, Darcy had decided to slow the pace enough to necessitate three stops before Pemberley, even more than the doctor had suggested.

Elizabeth protested that such a pace was excessively slow but, afraid for her comfort and health, her husband would not be moved on the issue. Consequently, their itinerary had plenty of room for long goodbyes, unnecessary at the Darcy home since the patriarch would be joining them soon, but much appreciated when they stopped at the Gardiner residence. Elizabeth could hardly let go of her aunt, so fiercely did they embrace. Promises were made to write and visit and eventually, the newly-weds were on their way to Pemberley.

The carriage moved slowly at Darcy's orders; Dr. Coulter had warned that too much jostling about could set back Elizabeth's recovery.

"I do not believe I have ever been on a voyage quite so unhurried." Elizabeth looked out the window as they left London then turned back to her husband. "Whatever shall we do for three entire days?"

Darcy moved across the coach so that he could place his arm around his wife. "We shall spend time together, just as we would at home."

"I must admit that I abhor the idea of being so cooped up in this manner."

"We can stop for walks whenever you like. We have enough time."

"That would not necessitate a fourth night on the road?" She asked in a teasing voice.

Darcy smiled and pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head as he stroked her shoulder.

It was not long before Elizabeth fell asleep against him and he was not surprised. In fact, he was pleased to see her resting. The doctor had emphasized that her body would require time and rest to recover from such a trauma. By the time she awoke, it was nearly time to eat and they stopped at an inn to do so.

After their meal, they took a leisurely walk. The inn was not situated in a particularly beautiful countryside, but there was a tolerable wood nearby and a stroll through it proved both invigorating and soothing to the couple after sitting in one place for several hours.

They sat companionably together again, talking intermittently as the carriage moved until the light threatened to fade from the sky and they decided to stop for the evening, indulging in one more short walk before darkness began to fall.

As Darcy signed the inn register, he could not help but notice the suspicious look in the proprietor's eyes as they flitted over Elizabeth.

Ignoring the man's dubious gaze, he took his wife's arm and led her up the stairs to their chamber. He had, of course, engaged only one for the pair of them. Once there, he studied her in the light from the fire and still open window and saw that she was looking much younger than her seventeen years. She had lost weight and grown pale. It was no wonder that the man downstairs had wondered at their union and perhaps his treatment of her, she still had visible bruises on her arms as well. Those would have been visible had her shawl slipped at all. His heart broke at her appearance and he determined that his first priority must be to nurture her back to the full bloom of health. Even as he spoke to the maid, ordering dinner, he considered picnics at Pemberley, outdoor fencing matches, and sumptuous dinners; anything he could think of to make her happy and healthy. Elizabeth was puttering about the room when she noticed him staring.

"Is something wrong, Fitzwilliam?" Her hands flew to her hair then to her dress as if to assess the problem.

"Nothing at all, Lizzy."

"Then what is it that holds your attention so?"

"The woman I love, of course."

Elizabeth rewarded him with a kiss which he held her in place to prolong until a knock at the door announced the arrival of their meal.

After dinner, they shared a few games of chess in their rooms, Elizabeth showed marked improvement from the last time they had played at an inn. Her convalescence had certainly allowed her to significantly improve her understanding and their last match ended in a stalemate, which she considered quite an achievement against her accomplished husband.

Eventually, they settled down to sleep on the inn's bed. Despite knowing about his wife's physical limitations of the moment, Darcy could not help but become aroused as he recalled the first night they had spent together in an inn, also their first as husband and wife. He held her more tightly and buried his nose into Elizabeth's hair, smelling her sweet scent as he lost consciousness.

It took Elizabeth a while longer to find sleep, she could feel her husband's interest and regretted being unable to respond in a way that they would both like. She promised herself repeatedly that she would make up for her failing by providing him with many healthy children in the future. Eventually, she managed to drift off to sleep as well, dreaming of small, dark-haired children running through the halls of Pemberley.

The remaining days of travel went much like the first. Upon finally arriving at Pemberley, the young couple felt well-rested, if slightly stiff from the hours spent seated in the carriage. The staff was welcoming, and Mrs. Reynolds herself showed the pair to their suite of chambers which was located in the family wing although some distance away from Georgiana's chamber, Darcy was pleased to note.

The rooms had not been fully overhauled like those in London, but they were well-aired and the décor was adequately cheerful; although it was not quite modern, neither was it particularly out of date. Both bedchambers had been outfitted with new linens and one contained all the personal effects that had previously been in Darcy's childhood room. His dressing room was full as well, it appeared his entire wardrobe had been moved. Elizabeth was surprised to find her own not empty either. Several gowns hung there unworn; gowns she had never seen before, but was sure were hers. The size seemed correct and the styles were reminiscent of those she had selected on her shopping trip with Lady Matlock. She could think of no plausible explanation but that the countess had taken it upon herself to expand her order. She marvelled at the expense and wondered who had borne it.

Dinner that night was especially elegant, the staff had certainly been given plenty of warning to expect the young master and his new bride this time and the table reflected that. After the meal, Elizabeth was presented to the staff as their new mistress and although she tried to take note of all their names, there were too many to remember and she knew she would have a daunting task before her in learning how to preside over a home so much larger than Longbourn. She hoped that Mrs. Reynolds was, in fact, just as wonderful as her husband insisted. The housekeeper's help would go a long way toward keeping Pemberley running smoothly.